Evening Hours Read online




  An excerpt from

  EVENING HOURS

  Life was good, and Kaylee had learned early to treasure such moments. After nearly losing her life at such a young age, nothing had ever been the same, and she never wasted one precious moment.

  That thinking gave her all the more reason not to waste one second contemplating a particular man. Her heart did a sudden somersault as she admitted to herself that she had thought about that cowboy off and on all night.

  Unsettling?

  Absolutely.

  Crazy?

  Absolutely.

  A waste of time?

  Absolutely.

  Lethal.

  Absolutely.

  So why couldn’t she get him off her mind?

  Also by MARY LYNN BAXTER

  IN HOT WATER

  PULSE POINTS

  HIS TOUCH

  LIKE SILK

  TEMPTING JANEY

  SULTRY

  ONE SUMMER EVENING

  HARD CANDY

  TEARS OF YESTERDAY

  AUTUMN AWAKENING

  LONE STAR HEAT

  A DAY IN APRIL

  MARY LYNN

  BAXTER

  Evening Hours

  This book is dedicated to my

  friend and gym buddy

  Walter Bates

  who should be writing instead of running.

  Thanks for all your plotting expertise.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  She looked dead.

  For a second Edgar Benton’s heart beat uncontrollably against his chest cavity. When he leaned forward and placed a trembling hand on the exposed arm and felt her warm flesh, a breath of relief seeped out of him. Thank God she wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway, he reminded himself as fresh tears dribbled down his face.

  This was the first time he’d seen his daughter since she’d been whisked away to surgery several hours ago. His precious sixteen-year-old lay like a beautiful corpse on the sterile hospital bed. Panic seized him and his knees buckled.

  He pulled a chair close to the bed, his eyes never leaving her face. Edgar took several deep gulping breaths, then whispered in a garbled voice, “Please, Kaylee, hang on. I can’t bear to lose you, too.”

  No response.

  His baby, his only child, remained unmoving and unresponsive. His tears kept coming. What had he, they, done to deserve such an awful tragedy? His twisted, angry face looked toward the ceiling, silently cursing God. He couldn’t fathom how he was going to survive without his wife. As he thought of her lying on a cold slab in a morgue, another onslaught of pain ripped through his gut.

  How would he tell his daughter that she might not ever walk again and that her body would always be scarred?

  “Oh, God, why?” Deep sobs racked his body.

  After realizing he’d cried aloud, Edgar peered at Kaylee to see if the sound had aroused her. It hadn’t. Taking several shuddering breaths, he felt a semblance of rationality return. His daughter was not going to die, not right now anyway. She faced an uncertain future, but at least she was alive.

  If only he had been driving instead of Kaylee, who had just gotten her beginner’s license and was testing her moxie behind the wheel for the first time.

  If only she’d had more experience, then maybe she could have dodged the car that had barreled through the stop sign as if it owned the road. As it was, Kaylee had plowed into the side of it. His wife, Vera, had died on impact while his daughter had flown through the windshield, her lower extremities ripped to shreds by the broken glass.

  If only he had taken the vehicle into the shop and had the seat belt repaired. If he’d taken care of that, the latch might not have popped open. His good intentions would certainly not have prevented the accident, but it might have prevented Kaylee’s serious injuries.

  He recalled the investigating officer’s words at the scene of the accident as the paramedics loaded his daughter into the ambulance.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, sir.”

  Edgar couldn’t respond, torn between staying with his dead wife and going with his injured daughter.

  “It’s one of those freak accidents when neither of your loved ones should have been seriously injured, much less killed,” the officer added.

  God, it’s my fault.

  “Sir, the ambulance is about to leave.”

  Without thinking, Edgar had run toward the vehicle.

  Focusing on the moment at hand rather than replay the darkest moment of his life, he sank his head into his hands. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew he had to regain control. He hadn’t been with them, and he couldn’t change that. Even if he had, things would’ve happened in exactly the same way. He would have given in to Kaylee’s plea to drive just as his wife had. Rarely had either of them denied their daughter anything.

  Kaylee was a great kid, a popular teenager whose many friends were now gathered in the main waiting area, solemn-faced and afraid. Not only was she well liked, but she was a straight A student and was involved in various school activities. Her favorite was the drill team.

  Another sharp pain sliced through Edgar, and his groan deepened. If what the doctor said turned out to be the truth, then she would never perform again, never strut her stuff, as she was fond of saying in order to get a reaction out of him.

  He could hear her teasing words and see her rolling her eyes as he pretended to be perturbed with her choice of words. It was a silly but fun game they played.

  Another stab of pain took his breath even as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Mr. Benton.”

  Edgar jerked his head around and squinted up at Dr. Chester Wainright, the surgeon who had only hours before operated on his baby, putting the pieces of her broken body back together. He was a tall, dark-haired, dark-complexioned young man who was as competent as he was good-looking.

  “Are you all right?”

  Before Edgar could force a reply, the doctor went on, “Sorry. Forget I asked that. Of course you’re not all right.”

  Edgar rose to his full six-foot-plus height and ran a hand through his thinning dark hair while he blinked the tears from his eyes. He was only forty-two; before this morning that had seemed so young. Now, in light of how his life had been turned upside down, he felt like an old, old man.

  “Is Kaylee going to be all right?” His voice croaked like a bullfrog before he cleared it.

  “H
ow ’bout we step outside,” the doctor said, shifting aside for Edgar to precede him.

  Once they were in a small adjacent waiting area, Dr. Wainright didn’t waste any words. “Your daughter is going to live.”

  “But?” Edgar knew there was more to come, and it wouldn’t be good. He felt himself visibly flinch.

  Wainright sighed. “You’re right. There is a but. She won’t ever be one hundred percent.”

  “Don’t beat around the bush, Doc. Spit it out. Will she walk again?”

  This time Wainright didn’t so much as blink. “If she does, it won’t be without a significant limp. And perhaps a leg brace. Her right pelvic bone was crushed and she suffered a multitude of internal injuries. I anticipate some scarring in that area, disfiguring her.”

  The room reeled, and for a moment Edgar thought he might retch.

  “Please, Mr. Benton, do me a favor. Sit, then put your head down.”

  Minutes later Edgar felt the room right itself; then he whispered, “What…what about a family? Children?”

  Dr. Wainright hesitated. “It’s a good possibility that she will never have children.”

  A cry erupted from Edgar’s lips, a cry that was reminiscent of a howl.

  He felt the doctor’s hand once again squeeze his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head, unashamed of the tears running down his face. “My baby’s alive and that’s all that counts.”

  “That it is.” The doctor cleared his throat, then went on in an exhausted voice, “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but as Kaylee’s doctor, I recommend she get counseling while she undergoes intense physical therapy.” He paused as if unsure how to continue. “Her life as she knew it will be no longer.”

  “Oh, God.” Edgar ground out the words, rubbing the back of his tight neck with an unsteady hand. “I can’t bear the thought of her not walking again.”

  “Yes, you can,” the doctor said in a stern tone. “If that’s the way it is, you have no choice. You have to be there for her and you have to be strong.”

  Edgar took a heaving gulp. “I know.”

  The doctor stood. Edgar followed suit, their eyes locking once again.

  “I’ll be back later to check on you both,” Wainright said. “Kaylee will sleep for most of the remainder of the day, so don’t get worried.”

  Edgar blew out a harsh breath. “And when she wakes up, I—” He couldn’t go on. His vocal cords constricted, shutting off further words.

  “When she wakes up, you will have to tell her the truth, but only if she asks.”

  Edgar nodded. “Knowing her, she’ll ask.”

  “Then you level with her.”

  Edgar nodded again, feeling his throat constrict even more. Once he was alone, he straightened his shoulders and walked back into Kaylee’s room. For the longest time he stood beside her bed while wave after wave of anger, pain and remorse swept through him.

  He finally got control of his emotions and sat beside her. Yet the words were so hard to come by. Reaching for her hand, he whispered, “No matter what happens, I’ll never let you down again.”

  Suddenly his heart leaped. She had squeezed his hand. God had not deserted him. He had been given a second chance and he would make the most of it.

  One

  Sixteen years later

  Man, did he ever have a great tush.

  The way he swaggered when he walked merely accentuated it, and the white shirt, boots and tight jeans added style.

  She figured he was an uninvited guest, as no one else at the party was dressed so casually. No one she knew would dare. This man was either a country bumpkin who didn’t know any better or he had so much self-confidence he didn’t give a rip.

  If she were placing a bet, she’d opt for the latter. He seemed to be totally at ease with himself and his surroundings.

  For a moment Kaylee Benton was held utterly captive by this stranger’s rear—a first for her. Oh, she’d admired men’s looks and physique, but never had she been blatantly fascinated by a specific body part.

  Suddenly realizing where her mind was and what she was doing, Kaylee was about to look away, when his gaze locked with hers.

  She had seen movies and read books where two people met and eyes held across a room—but never had such a thing happened to her. Swallowing, she jerked her head around. Her cheeks and body suddenly stung.

  Thankfully she realized that she was alone. At least she could regain her composure without an explanation. Taking several slow, deliberate breaths, she still found it hard not to sneak another peek at the man with the great tush.

  “Stop it,” she muttered to herself just as her insides settled back to normal. This was so out of character for her. It was bizarre behavior.

  Dismissing the entire episode from her mind, Kaylee concentrated on the party around her. It was given in her honor at The Garden Room of the luxury hotel in the heart of down-town Houston. The room was abuzz with the sound of voices, laughter and music, and redolent with the smell of flowers flowing from the glassed-in section out onto the patio.

  Kaylee certainly wasn’t immune. She took great pleasure in the fragrances that encircled her, inhaling the scent from time to time. The shindig had been in full swing two hours and this was the first moment she hadn’t been surrounded by people.

  She loved being the center of attention. Being named Woman of the Year was an honor as intoxicating as the strong floral scent. Yet she was grateful for the respite. It wouldn’t last long, she knew, since one of her models had just gone to refill her glass of wine.

  She was used to having people constantly being in her face, especially beautiful people like those who now milled about. After all, she made her living off beauty. She had successfully launched a modeling agency several years ago, an accomplishment that hadn’t been easy, especially since her idea had come under attack from the beginning. Her critics had told her she was crazy to think that an agency such as she envisioned would ever get off the ground in Houston, Texas. New York City, yes. Houston, no.

  Thank goodness she hadn’t listened to the naysayers. If she had, she’d probably be an embittered young woman chasing a dream that could never be.

  Kaylee’s gaze strayed to the cane that lay on the floor beside her. Even after all these years, her heart still constricted with pain when she saw it. She quickly reminded herself that even though she would never walk the walk, she had proved she could talk the talk. Her business was booming, a fact that the chamber of commerce had recognized. The ache in her heart eased.

  “Hey, where’s your devoted audience?”

  Kaylee looked on as her friend and assistant, Sandy Nelson, plopped down in the chair next to her, a smile creasing her face right along with a devilish twinkle in her blue eyes. She was a tall, busty woman with, as Sandy described it, a widening ass and a mop of curly black hair that capped her head like a crown.

  Kaylee adored her and knew the feeling was mutual. They made an awesome team. Without Sandy, Kaylee’s career wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it was today, because Sandy had an eye for who could enter the highly competitive world of modeling and survive, a gift that she, Kaylee, lacked.

  “Barbie is getting me a refill,” she said, breaking the momentary silence.

  “You’re probably enjoying the peace and quiet. You’ve been covered up all evening. I know how squirrelly that makes you sometimes.”

  Kaylee quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “It’s scary how well you know me.”

  “Not to worry.” Sandy grinned as she reached over and touched Kaylee on the arm. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

  “I know.” Suddenly a lump appeared in Kaylee’s throat and she didn’t know why.

  As if she sensed the poignancy of the moment, Sandy switched the subject. “This is some blowout, my friend.”

  Kaylee acknowledged her statement with a grin. “That it is. I still can’t believe it’s happening to me…to us.”

  “Whoa, there’s no us to it. Tonight is all about you and
your successful career. Just wallow in it up to your tonsils.”

  Kaylee smiled with a sigh. “You know that’s hard for me to do.”

  “Get over it. Being in the spotlight for one evening is hardly lethal.”

  Kaylee laughed. “What would I do without you to keep me on the straight and narrow?”

  Sandy laughed with her, then cocked her head sideways, a light appearing in her eyes.

  “What?” Kaylee asked.

  “You look great tonight. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look better.”

  Kaylee was taken aback. “You think so?”

  “I know so. Your skin has a flush to it. In fact, your cheeks look like a ripe peach.”

  Giggling, Kaylee rolled her eyes. “That’s gagging.”

  “It’s the truth. Is there something going on I don’t know about?”

  Kaylee froze as thoughts of that stranger’s ass came to mind. Grappling to regain her composure, she looked down and pretended to smooth a wrinkle out of her gown.

  “And the gold in your brown hair, I’ve never seen it shine so much.”

  “Now I know I’m going to throw up.”

  “How dare you make a joke out of my compliments.”

  “Get out of here,” Kaylee ordered with another laugh.

  “I can take a hint.” Sandy squeezed Kaylee on the shoulder. “See ya later, my dear.”

  Her assistant had barely disappeared into a throng of people when Kaylee looked up and saw Barbie Bishop headed toward her. The model wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was none other than the cowboy Kaylee had eyed earlier.

  Despite her efforts to remain calm, Kaylee’s heartbeat quickened. Surely Barbie would detour any second now and bypass her she told herself. But the two never veered off track. Before Kaylee could find her next breath, they were in front of her.

  “Kaylee, my friend here wanted to meet you.” Barbie looked at her companion before turning her gaze back to Kaylee. “Kaylee Benton, Cutler McFarland.”

  Though she was loath to do so, she held out her hand. When his calloused one took hers briefly, a tingle shot up her arm. She didn’t understand what was going on.